According to a friend: I knew you and her had something going on. You’ve got this little smirk thing you two do.
friends
One of my friends wants to paint me. She’s been asking for the past two years, and, the other night – while a little boozy – I consented.
I have to admit, I’m a little nervous. Also, I don’t know how she wants me to sit, what she wants me to wear, etc. But, I’m a ton excited.
http://fotografie.dennisclaes.com/images/zoom/QNZTBN/evianneke_dscf8668.jpg
That tickle would be delicious.
Sometimes, it’s not all about sex.
StandardOne of my best friends at Ivy University is gay. Let’s call him Jay. (See what I did there?)
Jay’s a really amazing guy. Supportive, funny, soulful, gentle. He’s got a wide range of talents and is just too good for words. He’s stunningly attractive. I love him to bits.
Of course, he’s gay, so we don’t get involved. Right?
Well, Jay has decided that he wants, for one time, to see what it’s like to fuck a girl. And, after watching me change once during freshman year before we went out, he’s determined that this girl in question should be me.
Only, I’m really not feeling it. I don’t really want to be his experiment. We’ve made out before during a game of Kings, but otherwise I’ve really tried to keep everything super platonic and veer away from the physical. However, sometimes Jay has his own plans. Once, after misinterpreting something I’d said as a come-on, he legitimately stood up and went to unbuckle his belt.
Woah there, partner.
So, what I’m telling you is that there’s this giant elephant in the middle of our friendship. Jay wants to fuck me. Once. And then go back to being with men.
This year, I moved to one of the older buildings on campus. There’s sort of a thing going around about cockroaches from the age and the ease with which they can enter. I’ve tried to keep things clean and make it seem as far from the Roach Motel as I can.
But, I came home last night from dance class to find this gigantic cockroach in the middle of my floor, stuck on its back, and squirming frantically. I screamed. I panicked. Tears may have been shed. After some experiences with cockroaches in the past, I have an incredibly visceral reaction to them.
I tried to pick it up myself at first, the old paper and cup method. But, I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t sure what to do or how to handle it. I finally took out my cell phone and texted Jay, asking if he could do me a favor. He texted right back asking what I had in mind. I texted that there was a cockroach in my room and almost instantly he called me up, saying, “I’m on my way now. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”
Readers, this boy leaves nearly halfway across campus from me.
When he came, he embraced me, took care of the cockroach, embraced me again. And all there was in that embrace was friendship and compassion.
I think about how many of my and my friends’ relationships with other people have been colored by sexual tension. Things don’t flow as smoothly and it’s harder to just be genuinely compassionate. Everything’s just a little bit tainted.
But I cannot describe how genuine the whole thing was. Maybe I’m over-examining it, maybe I just have a wonderful friend (with sexual tension).
I’ve decided to take up learning German. Rather than consulting something legitimate or taking a class, I’ve instead begun gleaning little words and phrases off of my two German-speaking friends at my university. This would be all fine and good, except I choose incredibly inappropriate times to practice them.
Friend: Let’s go grab some lunch.
Me: Guten abend, Bürgermeister.
Friend #2: Ivy…
Me: Ja, Fräulein?
Friend #2: Please stop butchering German.
Me: Ferme la bouche.
Friend: Ivy, that’s French.
Distorted and Disturbed.
StandardI was looking at a few tumblrs I follow when I happened on something incredibly unsettling: a photograph of a friend I know. At first, I didn’t recognize her. But, I recognized her body, her hair, her clothing, the room she was in. I knew without a doubt that this was definitely one of my best friends. It wasn’t in any way a lewd picture, but rather one praising certain aspects of her body (though some of the commentary was a bit lewd). But, something felt off.
Then I realized it: her face wasn’t on the head of that picture. Or, maybe it was her face. But, her cheeks were compressed, her lips were plumped, her eyes were moved. I felt beyond uneasy looking at it. I knew I couldn’t go on and tell her that it existed, it would be far too uncomfortable. But I knew it was there and I just felt beyond awkward with it, especially with how people were reducing her to her body, discussing her.
And then I thought of how much I do this on this tumblr. I don’t often take into account the person behind the photo. Sure, I very, very rarely post “amateur” stuff, but I still felt a bit disillusioned with tumblr for a little bit. Sigh.
I went out last night to a frat party. I decided to wear one of my favorite skirts. It’s cute: safari inspired with some really useful pockets. I had not worn it in a while, since at least spring semester. After pairing it with some boots and a white lace top, I headed out with some friends.
Somewhere in the middle of the night, I was talking to some people when I kind of absently reached into one of the pockets on my skirt. I felt something inside and raised a brow before pulling it out. Lo and behold, I was holding one of my thongs in my hand. I have no idea how it got in there and I found myself blushing instantly.
But, I had to laugh when my friend shook her head and said, “I’m not even surprised, Ivy.”
Oops.
I just got done talking to my bestie, A. She is putting serious consideration into ending her relationship with her boyfriend for a variety of reasons that would keep them still on friendly terms, but are honestly just not appropriate for this tumblr. So, I tried to give her advice and remind her that I’ll be there for her through the entire thing. I care about her immensely and I am so flattered and glad that she turned to me for support on this.
However – and feel free to call me a terrible friend, a bad influence, what have you – I’m looking forward to all the trouble we can get into together again now.
Oh, tumblr, friends are such a valuable thing.
I just got back from a nighttime diner run with a good friend. Seated in the booth, we quickly drifted from some stuff that has been bothering us to sheer silliness. We tried to keep our voices down, although we were only a couple of the small handful of people there tonight. However, we were soon a mess of raucous laughter and flailing gestures as we discussed, of all things to talk about at a diner, anal.
Tonight was, in its own weird way, exactly what I needed.
I want to protect her. I want to keep her safe. But I know it’s not my job or my responsibility or my place. And I know it would just make some things much more difficult.
In which habits are examined.
ChatDuring a conversation in which a good friend shared with me the status of his love life. And I, of course, reacted most maturely.
Him: I mean, stuff with (redacted) has been moving kind of slowly. But I’m seeing her tomorrow night, so it should be all good.
Me: (makes obscene gesture) Oh yeah?
Him: Yep.
Me: (noticing he has looked away) I like how you know not to look at me when we talk like this.
Him: You know what? I didn’t even realize I had. It’s practically subconscious at this point.